


Even The Doctor's Daughter Gets Lonely Sometimes

by sakurasake



Series: The Doctor's Daughter [1]
Category: Casino Royale (2006), Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Quantum of Solace (2008), Sherlock (TV), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom, Warehouse 13
Genre: Amelia's fuck buddy is James Bond!!!, F/M, M/M, soon for Claudia/Pete goodness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurasake/pseuds/sakurasake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A re-write of Daniel Craig's James Bond's first appearance: Casino Royale.   Torchwood 3 and UNIT assigned Bond a partner: Amelia Oswald. Watch Amelia's first adventure with her first companion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Olivia Thirlby as Amelia Oswald

Title: Even The Doctor's Daughter Gets Lonely Sometimes  
Author: Me  
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood/Casino Royale  
Pairing: implied Bond/OC friends-with-benefits companionship  
Cameo Mention: Warehouse 13  
Summary: A re-write of Daniel Craig's James Bond's first appearance: Casino Royale. Torchwood 3 and UNIT assigned Bond a partner: Amelia Oswald. Watch Amelia's first adventure with her first companion.  
…  
Score:

1) When Day Chokes The Night by Do Make Say Think  
2) Catastrophe and the Cure by Explosions In The Sky  
3) Skyscraper Girls by The Besnard Lakes  
4) Libertango by Bond  
…

[ ](http://s198.photobucket.com/user/JarodsSlayer/media/eventhedoctorsdaughterbannerameliaandbond.jpg.html)

…  
Prologue:

 

As MI6 agent James Bond checked his gear for, probably, the umpteenth time, his new partner Torchwood and UNIT liason officer Amelia Oswald strapped a Vortex Manipulator to her wrist, a Farnsworth communicator...although how she got that Bond would never know...and a Tesla stun gun. Bond didn't know how he got stuck with such a babe, and he was thinking of her age and not her good looks. There had obviously been more to her than the eye let on.

“So,” the 'child' spoke, her voice light but smoky, obviously British with a hint of something...inhuman...that also sounded eerily like Greek, “who is it this time?”  
Bond snorted and cocked his gun at the same time, Amelia rolling her eyes at him.

“Dryden,” He grumbled, putting away his gun...safety on, of course.  
Amelia groaned, “You got to be kidding me...” Bond shook his head, “what did he do?”  
Bond raised a brow to the sky, looking rather amused, as Amelia held a strange chrome wand in her hand, a little pink light at the end. Amelia saw the look and glared.

“Oh, bugger off, Jamie,” Amelia flipped him off, Bond thumbing his nose at her, “my dad made it for me, yeah. Just before he and Mum placed me with Jack.”  
Bond glared at Amelia for calling him Jamie. He'd met her when they were both sixteen. She was only twenty...and, apparently, a time traveler. When he'd been 'reunited' with her, she'd hugged him and called the man her 'beautiful mess'.

“Selling British Army security secrets to Pakistan,” Bond sighed heavily, resting his ass against the table, “so set that blasted thing for Prague.”  
Amelia flipped open the Vortex Manipulator and her small, slender fingers went to work setting their destination coordinates. As Amelia worked, Bond let his electric blue eyes rake over her figure. She hadn't really changed...that much. She'd had her final growth spurt before he'd seen her again. She had lickable curves and long limbs that Bond pictured wrapped around...

“OW!!!”  
Bond glared at Amelia and rubbed the back of his head, where she'd popped him one. Amelia had caught him ogling her. She didn't mind it, but he was thinking on it a little too long.

“Get your head out of your pants, Jamie,” Amelia glared, raising a single finger to silence Bond's impending smart-assed remark, “the one on your shoulders, blondie, not your dick...”  
Then Amelia leered at him.

“Save that for later.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bond hits on Amelia in front of a mark and Dryden is an idiot.

Title: Even The Doctor's Daughter Gets Lonely Sometimes  
Author: Me  
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood/Casino Royale  
Pairing: implied Bond/OC friends-with-benefits companionship  
Cameo Mention: Warehouse 13  
Summary: A re-write of Daniel Craig's James Bond's first appearance: Casino Royale. Torchwood 3 and UNIT assigned Bond a partner: Amelia Oswald. Watch Amelia's first adventure with her first companion.  
…  
Story Soundtrack:

1) Rolling In The Deep by Adele  
2) Come and Get It by Selena Gomez  
3) Change (In The House of Flies) by Deftones (listen to this during the beginning of the first chapter, the 'Dryden's demise' piece)  
4) Skin by Rihanna (first Bond/Amelia smut of the entire series, much less the story)  
…

[ ](http://s198.photobucket.com/user/JarodsSlayer/media/eventhedoctorsdaughterbannerameliaandbond.jpg.html)

…  
Chapter One:

 

“M doesn't really mind us making a little money on the side, Dryden,” James Bond drawled, nearly making his mark jump out of his skin.  
The agent's voice had come out of the dark and Dryden nearly fell over when he spun around to find Bond sitting in a chair behind him...and a young woman, probably early twenties, leaning against the wall. Looking very bored and picking long red nails with a wicked looking stiletto knife. Any sense of civility on Bond's face was gone the second before he spoke again.

“She would just prefer it wasn't by selling secrets,” He deadpanned, his face and voice both cold as he turned over the large silver gun in his hand.  
Dryden froze like a deer caught in the headlights. Almost like he thought Bond was a T-Rex and wouldn't see him if he didn't move. Amelia snorted softly, she watched the Jurassic Park trilogy too much. Bond didn't even need to look at Amelia to know what she was thinking. The girl had an internal monologue that became predictable to Bond. Only because he knew her too well. Bond rose from the chair with a grace belying someone much younger than he actually was, Dryden trying to pretend he wasn't phased; that he didn't flinch when Bond stood.

“If the theatrics are supposed to scare me then you've got the wrong man, Bond,” Dryden spoke, pouring himself a drink and taking a sip, “if M was so sure I was bent, she'd have sent a Double-O.”  
Amelia let out a deep chuckle, making both men look at her. She made a shooing motion with her hands.

“Get this done quickly, James,” Amelia drawled, her accent thicker than normal, “and you might get something special tonight.”  
Bond knew the game that Amelia was playing. He'd worked with Kelly Jones before, he knew that Amelia was messing with Dryden. Bond smirked and leered at Amelia, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Just HOW special, luv?” he asked, making Dryden thinking that he was all but forgotten.  
Amelia wagged her brows like Flash, “What do you think?”  
She unzipped her coat, without taking her eyes from Bond's. To Dryden, the two may as well be fucking right in front of him.

“Oh, get a room,” Dryden grumbled, earning the bird from Amelia.  
“We will when you're dead, arsehole,” Amelia snipped at Dryden, leaving her coat hanging open and revealing the skin tight outfit underneath, “just kill the bastard already.”  
Dryden decided to change the subject before the girl and Bond started shagging right there.

“Benefits of being Section Chief,” Dryden spoke, bringing Amelia and Bond's attention back to him just like they predicted, “I'd know if anyone had been promoted to Double-O status, wouldn't I?”  
In Amelia's opinion, the cocky little bastard was being showy, walking around the desk he'd been rifling through with a pistol in his hand. She wasn't that worried about Bond either. She was raised by his grand-father and was assigned to Bond by Jack, because Jack wanted to see if Bond had (or would have) inherited his 'special'-ness.

“Your file shows no kills,” He pointed at Bond with his empty hand, well, more of a gesture really, “and it takes...”  
“Two,” Bond gave a cold and spine chilling smirk.  
One that the Doctor would say would make the Master pretty damn proud of the human male. Dryden showed obvious unease, though he assumed that the two didn't notice it. The girl was too damned pretty to be smart at all, Bond had to be trying to impress her or something.

“You aren't a cricket fan by any chance,” Dryden looked down at the cup in his hand, after refilling it, then looking back up at Bond, “are you?”  
Dryden leveled the pistol at Bond, “Shame,” he cocked his head, “we barely got to know each other.”  
Amelia was ready to duck, but it wasn't needed. When Dryden pulled the trigger, nothing happened but an empty clicking sound. She grinned.

“I knew where you hid your gun,” Bond countered with a grin, “I suppose that's something.”  
Dryden glared, looking properly...but not impressively...angry.

“True,” He seethed through clenched teeth, the bastard had unarmed him to impress his little girlfriend, “how did he die?”  
He decided to think, and speak, of Fisher. Instead of paying Bond's little girlfriend any mind.

“Not well,” Bond admitted truthfully, standing in a seemingly lazy stance.  
Dryden hadn't even noticed it when Bond hid the gun under his arms as he crossed them. Dryden grinned like he thought he had a hand over Bond. Like he'd gotten the better of him somehow. How stupid the man really was. If Bond didn't kill him, Bond knew that Amelia would. His grand-father told him that the Doctor knew of his daughter's Double-O status at MI6 and her agent status for UNIT and Torchwood.

“Made you feel it did he,” Dryden spoke, “well,” he chuckled, going to sip the drink in his hand, “no worries, the second is...”  
Dryden never got to finish his sentence. Amelia wondered if Bond sparred with Agent Barton lately. The stance that the man took when he put a bullet between Dryden's eyes was something that she knew Barton to do.

“Yes,” Bond spoke, staring at the body crumpled on the floor, re-holstering his gun after putting the safety back on, “considerably.”  
Bond walked around the chair and up to Amelia, who's back was still against the wall. One hand snuck under her coat and around her corseted waist, pulling the buxom brunette against him. Amelia cradled Bond's neck with both hands, her tongue sliding against his when he kissed her deeply. He broke the kiss as quickly as he began it.

“Bloody hell...” Bond chuckled, “thought you were actually serious about shagging afterwards for a moment.”  
Amelia snickered and stole a kiss, “Who said that I wasn't serious?” then she pouted, “we just have to go through M and paper-work first.”  
Bond gave a shudder, his arm winding around Amelia as they walked out of the room together. He pulled her into an alcove, when he'd heard shoes running their way and fast. Bond stole one last kiss, before Amelia pushed the button on her Vortex Manipulator that took them the hell out of there.  
…  
In Uganda, a man named Steven Obanno was meeting with a shady character called Le Chiffre. In London, Bond was penning out his report. And in Cardiff, in the restored Torchwood hub, Amelia was feeding Myfawny for Jack. The pterasaur, sweet girl that she was, stuck around for Jack. Even though her human (Ianto) was dead, she felt a sort of loyalty to his mate (Jack). And Jack's foster hatchling (Amelia).

“I know that look, Lia,” Jack chuckled, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorless door frame.  
Amelia paled, but otherwise did nothing else, as she kept moving through the motions.

“Did you sleep with him?” Jack wagged his brows.  
The Immortal knew that Amelia had been with Bond. M needed her to witness the two kills that would get Bond his Double-O status. The woman also fully well knew Amelia and James Bond's history. They were childhood sweethearts. His grand-son chose well in a companion like her. And companions were all that they were. Neither of them were truly ready for a serious relationship, despite everything...including their previous history...so they were friends and lovers. Well, not quite true lovers...yet.

“No,” Amelia blushed finally, “made out with him in the room with the body, though.”  
Jack let out a cackle of laughter, which earned an eye roll from Gwen, Rhys, Martha and Mickey down in the bull pen of the Hub.

“Did you talk to Dad?” Amelia spoke, almost tragically and painfully hopeful.  
The girl truly thought that her father hated her...after she started working with the three government agencies that were MI6, Torchwood and UNIT. He didn't like that she had to kill people, but he could never hate his and his Impossible Girl's only baby. It had only been nearly a year for the Doctor and Clara, since the birth of their daughter. And nearly a year since they had to hide her in Jack's arms. Jack raised her. She grew up at the Hub. With Owen and Tosh and Susie and Gwen and Ianto.

“The threat is finally gone,” Jack's sad look when to a beaming grin, “so he and your mother will be stopping by soon enough,” he looked at the calender under the clock by the coffee pot, “this weekend, actually. Your mother's practically vibrating, she was so excited.”  
Amelia beamed in a giant grin. She was finally going to get to be with her parents again. Myfawny nudged Amelia with her beak, bringing the twenty year old's attention back to the Pterasaur. Amelia unwrapped the chocolate bar, the same brand as the first one she'd ever tasted...the first one Ianto ever given Myfawny...and broke it into pieces. She quietly fed the female Pterasaur, Jack gravitating back to the bull pen. But the silence didn't last long.

“When ARE you going to fuck Bond?” Jack asked Amelia suddenly.  
Martha and Gwen both popped Jack upside his head, Rhys and Mickey snickering at the Immortal's expense. Amelia laughed at Jack's indignant protests to the 'abuse' he was suffering.

“After I get done with feeding Myfawny, actually,” Amelia gave her best poker-face, one that had fooled EVERYONE more than once, “the rest of her chocolate is Ianto's locker in your office, Jack dearest,” she gave the Pterasaur a fond pat, before picking up her leather backpack she used as a purse, “so, bye.”  
…  
Bond felt like his muscles were burning. He just wanted to crawl into his bed and die. But he knew that he couldn't do that. Amelia would KILL him...with extreme prejudice...for daring to die on her watch.

Amelia heard the key rattling in the door. She laid back against the pillows on Bond's large bed, the remote in her hand controlling the lighting to dim.

When Bond opened the door, he noticed how there was only a single light on...in the kitchen. And, framed as if under a spotlight, was a stark white folded note card with 'Jamie' written on it in bold black. In that beautifully lazy scrawl that was Amelia Oswald's hand-writing. He dropped his bag on the couch and closed the door, locking it behind him before putting his keys on the hook. There were only two sets of keys allowed to but on the hook: his...and HERS. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. She was there.

Amelia pouted, wondering what was taking Bond so long.

Bond picked up the note card and unfolded it, seeing the message 'go to the bedroom, stupid face'. That was an endearment that she someone got off her deceased god-mother. Guess that came with sneaking a peak at the Tessalecta's records.

Amelia heard Bond coming closer and put the remote on the side table, before posing herself in display. Propped up like the Queen of Sheba on his pillows, legs crossed like Basic Instinct and arms settled like she was just laying them on either side of her on the back of the couch. Curled dark hair fell down her shoulders, covering her shoulders more than her chest. Deep red lips pulled into a delicious pout...and a very large red silk bow tied around her white corseted waist.

When Bond opened that door, he about had a heart attack. Sitting there pretty as a picture, wrapped in white lingerie and a big red bow, was Amelia.

“Took you long enough, Stupid Face,” Amelia grinned.  
Bond raised a brow, “Why DO you call me that?”  
Amelia crooked a finger at him, long red nail getting his attention as she beckoned him forward.

“It's why my god-mother called her husband,” Amelia admitted, giving a sexy shrug as Bond closed the bedroom door.  
Bond hadn't seen her in any state of undress since they slept together when they were sixteen. A one-off, yes. But it was something that James never forgot. It had been her first time, yes, but not his. His first time, he'd forgotten. But not Amelia's. Bond walked up the bed and leaned over Amelia. His head dipped forward and he kissed her deeply, like he had after killing Dryden. But with a more blood burning sweetness that sent Amelia's head through the clouds. He braced his hand against the head board with one hand, the other untying the ribbon to let it fall open. Amelia arched her body up, groaning softly into his mouth, and let Bond pull the ribbon out from under her. Bond heard Amelia's groan of protest when he broke the kiss, tossing the red ribbon aside. But not in the trash. He had plans for that ribbon one day.

“Twenty years, Amy,” Bond said with an air of sadness, one that caused her to kiss him sweetly.  
She smiled soft at him, after laying back on the pillows.

“Come and get it, Jamie...”  
Bond shrugged off his suit jacket and kicked off his shoes. He climbed onto the bed, stopping at Amelia's feet.

“To keep the shoes or not to keep them...” Bond mused, chuckling.  
Amelia bit her lip when his long fingers wrapped around her ankle, bracing her foot on his shoulder while he unbuckled her shoe. He kissed the inside of her ankle, before dropping the foot at his side. He tossed the shoe onto the floor, repeating the process with the other shoe. Bond was barely touching Amelia and she was almost writhing, the poor thing squirming and mewling softly. Bond chuckled deeply.

“So damned pent up,” Bond grinned like a shark, “I'll take care of you.”  
Amelia sat up long enough for Bond to unzip her corset and toss it to the side, electric blue eyes on her plump D-size breasts. While Bond's eyes were on her chest, her brown eyes went to the erection starting to strain against the zipper of his suit pants. She lifted her hips while he removed her white thong, tucking the fabric into his pocket. Amelia pinched his forearm, earning an not-very-enthusiastic pout from Bond. His eyes were locked with Amelia's as he leaned in, her chin tilting up as her head tipped back, his lips brushing hers as he devoured her mouth.

Amelia's fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, making quick work of them before his shirt fell open. Bond broke the kiss, both of them left panting as Bond shrugged off his shirt. He had her gaze once more as he stripped off his pants, finally joining Amelia in her nudity. Their clothes were strewn about haphazardly, which was typical.

Bond's lips brushed over Amelia's clavicle, nipping hard enough to sting but not enough to leave a mark and licking the mark to soothe it. With each nip, she hissed and pressed her body into his as it loomed over her. He lay cradled between her legs, completely at home as he lavished attention upon the young and responsive body under him. He traced his tongue down the valley between her breasts, before cupping one in his hand. He seemed to contemplate it for a moment before wrapping his lips around the nipple, coaxing it to a peak with his lips, tongue and teeth. He tugged the nipple gently, before letting it go with a soft and barely audible pop. And as he let it go, Amelia let out a whimpering gasp.

Bond gave a deep chuckle, that made her torso rumble with vibration. He traced his tongue over her carotid artery, latching on to the spot to suck and nip and lick. His free hand went between them, his middle finger tracing up and down her folds, earning a soft gasp at the touch that turned into a soft moan when his finger went between her folds without entering her. He lifted his head to observe his mark. She would definitely have to have a good make-up artist to cover the hickeys he was going to leave on her body.

A keening moan hit the walls, surprising his neighbors on the other side of Bond's bedroom wall. One hand fists in the sheets, the other in Bond's short hair. Bond had his right arm across her stomach, to hold down her hips, as he had the middle, pointer and ring finger of his left buried in Amelia's wet pussy. His tongue, teeth and thumb worked her clit, his electric blue eyes watching Amelia's face. Amelia felt like she was going mad; her blood was boiling, her pulse was running fast...and James Bond was smug about how good at what he was doing. Amelia could practically feel him smiling against her skin as her body began to tremble and shake, her walls tightening and contracting as they fluttered around his fingers.

Bond noticed that when Amelia came, properly he might add, she was actually rather vocal. He couldn't wait to play around with that, test just how loud she could get.

“You are too fucking smug,” Amelia spoke, her voice a hoarse croak as she felt him pull his fingers from her body.  
His eyes were locked with hers as he stroked his cock with the fingers still wet with her juices. He braced on arm on the right side of her head, the other around his cock as he teased her by brushing his head up and down the outside of her folds. His forehead fell against her clavicle with a groan as he slid into her to the hilt, the nails of Amelia's left hand digging into the back of his neck. Her right arm was kind of under his, so that arm ended up winding around his somehow. Before he disengaged it and laced his right hand with hers, his left hand with hers, holding them over her head for a moment.

It had been twenty years for him, but just four for her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bomb maker and the peanut gallery

Title: Even The Doctor's Daughter Gets Lonely Sometimes  
Author: Me  
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood/Casino Royale  
Pairing: implied Bond/OC friends-with-benefits companionship  
Cameo Mention: Warehouse 13  
Summary: A re-write of Daniel Craig's James Bond's first appearance: Casino Royale. Torchwood 3 and UNIT assigned Bond a partner: Amelia Oswald. Watch Amelia's first adventure with her first companion.  
…  
CASTING: Olivia Thirlby (brunette) as Amelia Oswald.  
…

[ ](http://s198.photobucket.com/user/JarodsSlayer/media/eventhedoctorsdaughterbannerameliaandbond.jpg.html)

…  
Chapter Two:

 

Bond had to go to Madagascar to pick up and question a bomb maker. Amelia had snorted and told M 'good luck getting the bastard out alive'. M had countered with 'which one'. Amelia just looked at her like she was an idiot. The woman knew damn well that she was talking about the bomb maker. M saw the cold look of the Doctor in Amelia's eyes and backed off. M thought of Bond like a son, even if she wouldn't admit it aloud, and she wanted to make sure that Amelia would take care of him.

But it was meeting her parents that she was nervous about. She could face Davros or the head of MI6 and be bored, but mention meeting her parents and you saw just how nervous she was.

 

Amelia could hear voices coming from downstairs, so she left her door open to hear down the echoing hallway as she curled her hair. Jack and Gwen were talking about her parents again. That they would be showing up that afternoon or so it sounded like. She had to walk Mickey and Martha around the new Hub. To make sure it matched the old one to the most specific detail. She knew that it was just to get her out of the house so Jack could sneak her parents in. She was young, not stupid. Though, most people thought that youth and stupidity went hand in hand.

Before Mickey and Martha could come for her, she slipped in her MI6 earpiece and disappeared into her computer lab, full of screens and interactive 3D interfaces. If you asked any computer geek in existence, they would orgasming at the mention of it.

 

“Wait...” Clara spoke, “you said she would be here at six...”  
Jack looked a little sheepish, “I don't know if she even left. She may be in her lab.”  
The Doctor perked up at the mention.

“What kind?” He spoke, the Time Lord seeming happier.  
“A computer lab,” Jack chuckled, “think Minority Report, CSI Miami...the TARDIS...the holodeck from Star Trek.”

 

“Looks like our man,” Agent Carter, Bond's partner for the mission, spoke, “he has burn scars on his right arm.”  
“Ayo zyoct dnurg dned e lyrgia'm mbisgcit sysg zem yoh ler uw dni mbydm zihi huknd,” Amelia grumbled, her voice in Carter and Bond's ears, though, because of the interface, she was giving a solid holographic projection, “James?”  
Bond was snickering, because he knew what Amelia had said. She had said that Carter would think that a monkey's cock would be their guy, if the monkey's spots where right. He knew that there was a reason he loved that woman. He would have had a responding thought, but heard her saying his name.

“I wonder if bomb makers are insured for things like that,” Bond mused, able to save his lapse.

 

Jack poked his head in the door and saw Amelia in the main part of the interface. He shooed everyone to the stairs that went up to the observation room. Clara and the Doctor saw just how perfect a mix of them that their baby girl was.

When Carter touched his earpiece, Clara booed as Bond scolded the agent. The man quickly dropped his hand. But it was too late, the bomber spotted him. Amelia disengaged the projection, the projection screens raising into the ceiling as Amelia stepped up to the console.

“M is going to be pissed,” Amelia cursed, her voice heard over the speakers in the observation room.  
Bond snorted, “No, shit, love. Does Jack even know you're doing this?”  
Amelia gave an indignant squawk that gave Bond all that he needed to know. Jack had no idea that Amelia was playing hookie by hiding in her lab...again. Amelia glared at the screen, watching Bond as he made his way through the embassy after the bomber.

“Men...” She grumbled, “I will never understand them...ever...and I deal with JACK every day.”  
In the observation room, there were quiet snickers and a rather indignant...squawk...from Jack. Though you wouldn't hear Jack call it that. He would call it a very manly cry.

“Love,” Bond's voice grabbed their attention once more, “I need you to take a note for me. A text I found on the bomber's phone. I need you to run a different avenue than what M can provide.”  
Amelia sighed heavily and jotted down the text when he read it out to her. She told him to come see her when he got of the debriefing with M. He came BEFORE. As bad a pun as that was. Pun wholly unintended.  
…  
The next morning, Bond woke to the smell of bacon and fresh coffee coming from the kitchen. When he walked out, there was a chorus of cat-calls. He rubbed his eyes until they focused, before seeing all of the people assembled. He looked over at who was cooking. Okay...Amelia...he shouldn't be surprised there. Two people that look like Amelia; must be her parents. Jack and his little crew were easy to pick out after than.

Bond came up behind Amelia and hugged her, kissing her temple as he stole a piece of the finished bacon. Thus resulting in Jack pouting.

 

Mycroft Holmes nearly jumped out of his skin when the doors came slamming open and his boss, Lady Mary Mawdsley...aka M of MI6, came into the room with a bellow and an entourage of agents trying to suckle up to her arsehole. Her aide, Villiers...utterly useless idiot in Mycroft's opinion, came scrambling up from his desk. Which made Mycroft roll his eyes at him.

“Who the hell do they think they are!?” M bellowed as she entered, “I report to the Prime Minister and even HE is smart enough not to ask me what we do!”  
M had noticed Mycroft's presence and felt a little easier. She knew what her proverbial counter-part had to deal with every day. Arranging the dirty work when Bond can't be there to do it. She was always grateful to the emotionless little prig...well, he was until his brother tried to fake his death and put himself into a coma for six months. That had partially cured him of being an arsehole.

“Have you ever seen such a pile of self-righteous arse-covering prigs!?” She asked, not losing a single second nor stitch of her steam, “They don't care what we do, they care what we get PHOTOGRAPHED doing.”  
M glared at Villier's, not commenting a single bit when he almost tripped her. It was like the little prig ASKED to be strangled half the time. Not that she's actually wrapped her aging hands around the little bastard's skinny neck...yet.

“How is your brother, Mycroft?” M spoke, panting just slightly as she sipped the bottled water that Mycroft handed her.  
Mycroft actually chuckled, Villier's thinking that the normally stoic man was showing that he was human.

“Sherlock is starting to get stir crazy,” He spoke, “Captain Harkness said that I can unleash Sherlock on Amelia soon enough. Her and John together seem to be able to keep him out of trouble long enough.”  
M snorted and rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. She knew EXACTLY what Amelia would be getting up to with the younger Holmes brother. Amelia and Bond had a kinship that M hoped would keep the miserable old bastard alive for as long as humanly possible. It was a long and awkward silence before M's thought train trailed back to Bond.

“And how the hell could Bond be so stupid?” She blurted out, making Villiers jump out of his skin and Mycroft hid a smile behind his hand at the same time, “I give him Double O status and he celebrates by shooting up the blasted embassy? It would have been better for him to shag Amelia!”  
Mycroft let out a bark of laughter, “He did. He skipped the debriefing to go shag her. Captain Harkness sent us Amelia's report of everything. Apparently, little Miss Oswald was being the fly on the wall during the escapade.”  
M's chin dropped to her chest, covering quickly before Villiers opened his annoying little mouth.

“Is the man deranged?” M asked, deciding to file the Amelia bit away for later.  
Mycroft shrugged, “He DOES remind me of Sherlock, madam.”  
M glared at Mycroft, the man miming a zipping of the mouth. He knew when to keep his mouth shut when the head of MI6 was that close to a loaded weapon.

“And where the hell is he!?” M grumbled, sitting down in her chair.  
Villiers skittered off out of the office, taking his dismissal as given. Mycroft sat down comfortably.

“Where is he really, Holmes?” M sighed heavily.  
Mycroft smirked, “He slept over at Amelia's. He is meeting her parents this morning. Amelia's father is the Doctor, madam, her mother is 'the Impossible Girl'...” he looked at his PDA, “...one Clara Oswald. She apparently jumped into the Doctor's personal time-stream to keep him from being re-written out of existence. Her first appearance was as a woman named Oswin Oswald. She'd been assimilated by the Daleks for her brilliant mind, but was able to resist it wholeheartedly. She blew up the planet that the Dalek's used as an insane asylum for their kind, herself along with it, in attempts to help the Doctor...”  
He looked at his PDA once more.

“And his companions of the time,” Mycroft drew it out, scrolling on the PDA to find the names on Jack's extensive file on Amelia, “one Amelia Pond and her husband Rory Williams. Amelia is known to the Doctor's circle as The Girl Who Waited, while her husband quite deservedly earned the title of The Last Centurion.”  
Now M looked impressed. Getting a sneaky little smile on her face, she wondered if Amelia's parents would eat Bond alive...proverbially, of course.

“In the old days,” M gave a heavy sigh, “if an agent did something so embarrassing he'd have the good sense to defect. Christ,” she let out a breath, “I miss the Cold War.”  
…  
COMPANIONS SO FAR:

1) James Bond  
2) Sherlock Holmes  
3) Mycroft Holmes  
4) Doctor John Watson


End file.
